


Second Chances

by Crookes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crookes/pseuds/Crookes
Summary: Harry had worked hard to get where he was in life. There was just one last thing he needed to fix.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst I try and get my brain in gear for other stuff I found this old unfinished fic laying about and had a bit of fun finishing it and tidying it up. I tried to smooth it out but if the first half and second half are still a bit disjointed from the time gap between writing my apologies! 
> 
> Anyway have a bit of old school Drarry fluff :)

Five years.

It felt like an age and no time at all.

Harry had changed a lot in that time. He liked to think he had grown from the boy he was when he left Hogwarts , even if it wasn’t in height. 

He had been at his angriest in the two years following the War. 

Once the funerals were over Hermione had coaxed him and Ron into helping the rebuilding efforts, knowing in her own way that having something practical to do would keep them going in the face of their losses. Slowly Hogwarts became whole again, a year had passed and they were preparing for their improvised ‘eighth’ year. 

There had been a viciousness in finally completing his N.E.W.T’s in spite of Voldemort, in spite of all that had been taken from him.

It had been difficult but with time and good friends Harry thought he finally had his life on track. He took a deep breath and walked through the huge open doors to the Entrance Hall behind. His eyes instinctively went to the moving staircases above him and he felt oddly pleased that he could still trace his route to the Gryffindor dormitories.

Looking around he was glad that he was pretty much alone, just a couple wizards he didn’t recognise talking in a corner near the doors to the Great Hall, most others would have headed straight inside thankfully. Harry imagined he would have to brace himself for the stares, he had been too much in his own bubble the past year and forgotten what it was like mostly.

When he had finally decided to go into Wizarding Law he had been so excited to do something new, Ron had still gone on to be an Auror but Harry had lost his stomach for fighting. Unfortunately for him when he had begun an internship with the Ministry most had seen it as an opportunity to ‘drop in’ on him for the sake of being seen with him for their own political aspirations. 

It had been a miserable and frustrating six months before he finally found another internship at a small firm on Diagon Alley. The new place had come with an added benefit of a receptionist at the front of the building who was truly gifted at making people think twice before trying to sneak past, no matter who they were. It was so much more pleasant just knowing he could go to work and do his job without intrusions. 

It also helped that his immediate boss was a bleeding heart like him so the cases they worked on Harry genuinely cared about. 

In a month’s time he would have his degree and would be making the transition from intern to employee, the office was throwing him a surprise party that he pretended not to know about.

He finally felt like he had done his parents proud, carved out his own slice of happy in a life that he knew could be all too short. He wanted to live his best life for them, for Sirius, for Remus, for everyone he had lost. 

So this was it, his last regret that he was going to try and fix tonight.

There had been a moment buried amongst the confusion of his unofficial eighth year that had stayed with him all this time, somewhere under the lingering feeling of grief and anger and the slow knitting of wounds.

It was a missed chance, a single moment when things could have gone another way. 

Maybe it was a good thing nothing happened, maybe neither of them were ready at the time but it had replayed in Harry’s head over and over ever since.

Even if it had been too soon then, it wasn’t too soon now and it wasn’t yet too late. Harry had been building up to this, shortly after leaving Hogwarts Harry had finally given a relationship with a guy a chance. 

One of Charlie Weasley’s friends as it had turned out, it didn’t end terribly well, the guy getting fed up of not being able to go on a date without being hounded by paparazzi but it had taught Harry he really could just be himself.

He hadn’t really seen anyone seriously since, only the occasional hook-up on the rare night he wasn’t up late with his law books. Partially because he was focused on the rest of his life, partially because he knew exactly who he wanted but he didn’t know how to go about it. 

He had finally gone to Ron and Hermione, there had been a few raised eyebrows over Hermione’s pregnancy bump but eventually they both sighed like ‘really we should have expected this’ and set about trying to help.

That was how he had ended up here back at Hogwarts, he had made it this far now he just needed to…

To do what exactly?

Harry groaned at himself under his breath, he had only thought of getting this far and the rest was all vague daydreams about curling up on the sofa having his hair combed through with long delicate fingers or having those same fingers stroke him to orgasm. Depending, of course, on his mood while daydreaming and whether he was alone or not.

Rubbing a hand over his face Harry went over what had started all this for the millionth time in his head.

~

Harry’s sleeping patterns had never properly recovered from the endless nightmares in the wake of the War. There had been a fresh wave when he had moved back into the Hogwarts dormitories for his N.E.W.T’s as well and hadn’t that just been the cherry on top. The first place he had ever felt at home, the first place he had ever really known what it was like to be happy and have friends and now it was haunted by more than just the visible ghosts.

It had been like losing another part of himself to realise that Hogwarts was now as great a source of pain as it was comfort. You could always tell the students who had been at the Battle by their reluctance to eat in the Great Hall. It was difficult to stomach food when the image of the dead lined up in rows was forever stuck on the back of your eyelids. 

Being halfway through the second term the pain had settled into an ache, helped by how much time they had spent at Hogwarts during the restoration efforts but he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny still either grabbed their food and went elsewhere or simply went to the kitchens.

Today Harry had skipped dinner entirely, after classes Ginny had been busy with a Transfigurations essay and Hermione and Ron were being especially affectionate so Harry had gone to the Quidditch pitch to shake loose a few cobwebs in his head.

By the time he felt better it had grown dark and dinner was over. He made his way back to the dorms only to realise that most people had already gone to bed. Ginny was nowhere to be seen and Ron and Hermione were cuddling on the sofa, he waved goodnight to them and headed upstairs to crash as well.

It took him a couple hours of glaring at the canopy of his bed before he sighed and admitted to himself that he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night. From the various levels of snoring he figured everyone else was so he made sure his curtains were drawn tightly before casting _lumos_ so as not to wake them. 

Leaving his wand in the middle of the bed Harry scooched to the right side of his bed and reached down until his hand came across something appropriately book-shaped. He pulled it up and was pleased that it was the book he actually wanted so he didn’t have to root around again. 

Pushing his cushions into a relatively comfortable position he settled in for the next chapter of _'Quaffles and Scuffles: Quidditch disputes of the Age'_. 

Because life enjoyed laughing at him however, Harry only managed to get through two pages before his stomach decided to raise it’s voice in protest. Harry huffed, irrationally frustrated with himself.

Closing his book with more vehemence than the situation really warranted he muttered _nox _and carefully opened his curtains to slide out of bed. He hissed as his feet touched the floor, it was so bloody cold, why couldn’t he have just fallen asleep and eaten in the morning.__

____

____

Casting a quick _muffiliato_ around him Harry opened his trunk and pulled out his thickest socks and hoodie over his pyjama’s, found a battered pair of trainers and finally grabbed his invisibility cloak. 

Creeping as quietly as he could towards the stairs Harry figured at least the walk might tire him out enough to catch a few hours sleep before morning.

Sometimes Harry looks back and can’t help but thank his stomach for getting him out of bed that night but then he realises that’s strange in almost everyone’s eyes and awkwardly pretends he didn’t just do that.

By the time Harry had made it down to the kitchens the vague irritation that seemed to always be crawling along his skin these days had dissipated slightly. The castle was always so peaceful at night.

He had also decided that he was going to eat his damn body weight in food because now that he was paying attention he was _so hungry_. Glancing up and down the corridor to check no-one was about he lowered his cloak slightly and tickled the pear in front of him, already imagining himself a five-course meal.

His train of thought however was immediately derailed by the fact that not only was there someone else in the kitchens but that someone was Malfoy and he appeared to be cooking. 

Harry gaped for a moment and then his stomach made an abortive gurgling sound because whatever Malfoy was cooking it smelled bloody fantastic.

Malfoy’s head whipped towards him, alarmed, whether because he heard the door closing behind Harry or the strange noise his stomach had made, Harry wasn’t sure but he really hoped it was the former. Harry switched from surprised to defensive in a heartbeat because that was his default stance when dealing with Malfoy who also seemed to tense up, grey eyes staring at him warily.

“I could report you for being out of bed,” Harry said slowly, discreetly dropping his cloak into a corner by the door before Malfoy could realise what it was.

“So could I,” Malfoy frowned.

There had been an awkward truce since the beginning of the eighth year, both had studiously avoided each other, not sure where they stood now but clearly both too weary for school-yard rivalries.

This was the first time they had actually been alone in the same room since coming back and Harry felt a little as if he were walking a tightrope, one wrong move and everything could come crashing down.

Malfoy twitched and shifted back to face whatever he was making. 

“I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me,” Malfoy offered.

Harry sighed, some of the tension easing though his eyes still followed Malfoy’s movements cautiously.

“Okay,” Harry agreed.

He said that but then he realised one thing that made bothering Malfoy again a necessity.

“Uh, where are the house elves?” Harry asked, Malfoy shot him a pointed look of irritation.

“I sent them away to bed, I didn’t need their help,” Malfoy answered.

Harry was pretty sure the look of disappointment on his face was the most pathetic he had ever managed if the world-weary sigh Malfoy let out was any indication.

“If it’s food you’re after there are plenty of ingredients in the cupboards and another stove over there, or-” Malfoy looked embarrassed suddenly and couldn’t quite meet Harry’s eye, “I’m, uh, making something that should be done in five minutes or so.”

Harry blinked, then he blinked again. Then he remembered truce didn’t equal trust and frowned.

“I’m not sure I want to eat something you’ve cooked,” Harry answered honestly.

“Fine, cook your own food,” Malfoy snapped back, turning away from Harry again to stir whatever was in the huge pot he had over the stove.

A little off balance from the whole interaction Harry began opening cupboards looking for some pasta and anything that could constitute sauce. He was on his fifth cupboard when he realised that they were magically extended and absolutely anything could be behind what he saw on the first few rows.

He could cast a summoning spell for pasta but he had a feeling that wherever it was there would probably be a lot of it and it would likely knock down everything between him and it. Not to mention that when it did get to him it would probably suffocate him in its multitude or stab him in the eyes or whatever knowing his luck.

It may not have been that long since Harry had wished he could be buried next to his lost friends but death by pasta was somewhat too humiliating for his taste.

He let out a huff of frustration and his stomach replied with another rumbling sound.

The worst thing was Malfoy’s cooking really did smell mouth-watering. Harry stood for a moment hesitating, trying to figure out where eating Malfoy’s food fit into their unspoken calling off of hostilities and accompanying avoidance of each other.

“For Merlin’s sake Potter just come and eat. I promise it’s not poisoned, I’ll even eat some myself to prove it to you,” Malfoy huffed, “I was only going to vanish it anyway.”

“What? Why?” Harry whirled around as if getting rid of food that smelled that good was the worst crime Malfoy had ever committed. Malfoy just gave him an exasperated look, complete with raised eyebrow, all wispy blonde hair and judging grey eyes.

He had probably known all along that Harry would cave after an unsuccessful attempt to make his own food. Harry thought indignantly that if he had been able to get his hands on some basic ingredients without causing any major disasters that would upset the house elves then he would have been just fine. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but I’m only trying out a recipe, I was going to taste it to see how it had turned out and that’s it. I, at least, have already had dinner.” 

Harry would have asked why Malfoy was practising recipes but he felt he had already pushed their boundaries enough. Besides he was a little more thrown by the dinner comment, had Malfoy merely assumed from Harry being here this late or did he actually notice whether Harry picked up food during mealtimes or not?

“Fine then, thanks I guess,” was all Harry could reply.

“Gracious as always Potter, “ Malfoy snorted, Harry frowned and went to sit at the table, biting his tongue on a retort so that he didn’t push them towards an argument and ruin whatever this was.

Once Malfoy had dished up the food, which turned out to be a thick lamb stew with new potatoes, Harry found himself relaxing. It was quite possible that his stomach had completely overridden his common sense but moments of calm were few and far between and just because this one was shared with Malfoy didn’t mean Harry would throw it away so carelessly.

There was just something about the absolute absurdity of the situation, sitting opposite Draco Malfoy as the boy served him a bowl of lamb stew he had cooked himself that stopped the restlessness that had been nestled under his skin all day.

They ate in silence, Harry a little faster than Malfoy as he was the one who had actually been hungry. Harry was going up for seconds whilst Malfoy still worked on his first bowl.

When he settled back down he savoured it a bit more, the immediate pangs of hunger eased so that he could actually enjoy what he was eating.

He didn’t mean to let out a small moan of appreciation, really he didn’t, but it wasn’t half as surprising as the bark of laughter that followed it. Harry’s eyes snapped open at Malfoy in shock only to find an equally shocked expression staring right back at him.

Watching your former rival clear his throat uncomfortably as his skin noticeably flushes really does alter your perceptions of the world.

At least this was the conclusion that Harry came to within seconds of seeing it happen. He wasn’t sure if his eyebrows would ever climb back down from his hairline.

Malfoy seemed to notice this relatively quickly however and shock soon morphed into a scowl. It was a more familiar expression certainly but it didn’t quite have the same effect when Malfoy’s face was still a little pink.

“What? You’re the one making stupid noises,” Malfoy barked, stabbing at a chunk of lamb with more ferocity than it deserved.

“Um, right, sorry,” Harry shook his head, wondering if he had fallen asleep in his bed after all and this was all a very strange dream.

But then Malfoy was looking at him again, the flush went as fast as it had come, Malfoy's face pale and oddly blank.

“You-” Malfoy started and stopped like he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.

“What?” Harry asked.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Malfoy continued, dropping his fork to indicate he had given up on eating for now, “I’m the one who should be apologising but I rather thought that would happen during a much more loaded conversation.” 

Malfoy looked extremely uncomfortable at his impromptu confession, staring at Harry through his eyelashes as if trying to assess whether he was about to be jinxed.

Harry cleared his throat, not sure what to do with this sudden seriousness after the surprise of making Malfoy laugh. It was all a bit too rollercoaster for him at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, well, do we really need to talk it out? We were both dragged into a pretty shit situation without any real choice and now we’re just trying to get on with our lives.” Harry shrugged.

“I guess so,” Malfoy sighed, tension draining from his shoulders as he realised Harry wasn’t going to up and leave, or worse attack him for all the stupid things he had ever said or done.

They went back to eating in silence, Harry’s sudden discomfort fading away now that he was no longer required to talk about his feelings or the War.

The only time the silence was broken again before they finished their plates was when Draco said “For the record I really am sorry,” in between bites.

“Yeah, me too,” Harry answered, he knew there was still plenty left unsaid but just having that apology something in Harry’s ribcage settled. 

Harry thought perhaps rather than soldiers on the opposite sides of a War they were really just a couple of damaged kids trying to figure out how to be better in this new world.

When Malfoy had vanished what remained of his food he took his bowl up to the sink, Harry followed, his own empty bowl in hand. When Malfoy turned on the tap Harry couldn’t help but send him a questioning look. Malfoy just shrugged and went to grab the pot from the stove as well.

“Okay, what is going on? You don’t cook and you certainly don’t wash up,” Harry pointed out.

“You have no idea what I do or don’t do Potter,” Malfoy replied.

“Well that’s true enough but I really don’t believe you were doing any of this before so what gives?”

Malfoy sighed and looked at Harry searchingly as if trying to decide whether anything he said might still be used as ammunition in a fight or whether they were officially past that now.

He seemed to decide that they were.

“Most of our assets were seized when Father was sentenced so we only have one house elf and Mother doesn’t know how to cook. I thought I would learn her favourite dishes so I could help out at the new house when I go home,” Malfoy admitted finally.

“New house?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Malfoy laughed but it was dark and bitter, “hard to go back to the Manor when it still feels haunted by Him. That was one asset we were glad to hand over to the Ministry believe me. Mother has a holiday home in Somerset, we’ve moved there for now but I think she wants to go to France eventually.”

“Do you want to go to France?” 

“I don’t know,” Malfoy sighed, “a fresh start would be nice, away from the whispers and the glares but it also feels like running away. Part of me wants to stay, suffer through it, prove that I can be better, England is my home and I don’t think I’m ready to give that up yet.” 

Malfoy looked so resolute then, sleeves half rolled up as he washed out the stew pot, glaring at the running water as if it would make a decision for him if he just stared long enough.

“I think you should stay,” Harry surprised himself with saying, leaning against the sink and watching the hair curl around his former rival’s ear as the boy fought harder with himself than he ever had with Harry.

Malfoy looked at him in surprise and Harry jerked back at being caught staring. 

“I mean it’s your choice of course but you don’t really sound like you’re ready to just go hide in France,” Harry fumbled, trying to cover up the warmth that had been in his voice when he told Malfoy to stay.

“We’ll see,” Malfoy answered cryptically, staring at Harry a moment longer before returning to the dishes. Harry focused on pretending the blush he felt rising was going to _stop right now_. 

When everything was packed away and they were moving towards the door Harry remembered his cloak and suddenly didn’t feel up to deceiving Malfoy about it. As soon as they reached the door, Malfoy’s hand already on the handle, Harry bent down to retrieve it. 

He could tell Malfoy recognised what it was by the way his eyes widened, his gaze met Harry’s sharply who could only shrug and smile wryly.

“Well that explains a few things at least,” Malfoy rolled his eyes and Harry found himself chuckling. 

Harry felt strangely happy and nauseous suddenly, there was a pulling feeling in his stomach like the kind he would get at the top of a huge slide as a kid when the Dursley’s would let him go to the park with them.

Rubbing the back of his neck as if that could get rid of the feeling Harry followed Malfoy out the kitchen door slowly, both of them keeping an eye out for teachers or Filch. It was nearing half 3 now so hopefully even Filch had gone to bed but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

Finally satisfied that they weren’t about to be caught, Harry and Malfoy turned to each other. This was the point at which friends would smile and say goodbye, maybe even hug, but whatever they were now it still wasn’t quite friends.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, trying to navigate around the strange tension in the air until Harry finally managed to speak.

“Thanks, for the uh, food and everything,” Harry waved his hand as if trying to encapsulate the company, the conversation, the apology.

“Yeah,” Malfoy answered, “anytime I guess.”

Not sure what to do next Harry stuck his hand out, after a moment of hesitation Malfoy shook it. His palm felt soft and cool against Harry’s, Harry licked his lips, wanting to say something more but not sure what.

Then Malfoy had dropped his hand and turned away to the Slytherin dormitories, the boy waved goodbye behind him and Harry, his own hand now shoved back in his pocket sighed and wandered away to his own room.

Over the next few months they went back to keeping a polite distance as if nothing had ever happened. Sometimes Harry doubted whether it really had but then he’d catch Malfoy’s eye in a Charms lesson and he knew. Knew that something had changed, shifted, he felt that they were no longer avoiding each other to prevent a fight but in fear of something else bubbling to the surface. Something that could prove just as volatile.

~

Standing in the Entrance Hall Harry told himself once again that he hadn’t imagined it, that there had been something there. For the millionth time he also told himself that even if there had been back then, that wouldn’t necessarily translate to now. Malfoy, or Draco as Harry had come to think of him in his head, had also changed a lot over the past five years. 

Harry had watched as the newspapers went from denigrating Draco to cheering his success as he created his own business for Wizard adjusted muggle electronics, appeared at every charity ball looking utterly mouth-watering and proved over and over that he was nothing like his father. Despite himself Harry had also kept tabs on Draco’s reported romantic entanglements.

There had been an aborted engagement to Astoria Greengrass a few years ago but apparently they had remained friends. Various witches and wizards had been seen hanging on his arm at some event or another since but there hadn’t been anyone consistent in a while.

So, as far as Harry knew, Draco was single, that was one hurdle down. Now he just had to take the chance that like him Draco had considered what they might have been after that night as well. 

It was the only option left to him or that night would continue to overshadow Harry’s romantic life. He was pretty sure he could find someone and settle down but he also knew that a part of him would always wonder if he would have been happier with Draco.

He just needed a chance, a chance to make his case to Draco that actually they could be something amazing.

Newly determined Harry gathered up his courage and walked through to the Great Hall where the reunion was being held. 

The room was already quite full and he was quickly hailed over by several familiar faces. Ron was bemoaning that his wife was off doing organising committee things and not there to dance. If Harry wasn’t mistaken Seamus was already tipsy and probably only upright because of the steadying hand around his waist from Dean. Even Justin Finch-Fletchley appeared at one point with a round of firewhiskey shots. 

Harry talked and laughed and took advantage of the nibbles on one of the tables as he kept an eye out for a hint of silver-blonde hair. By the time half an hour had passed and Hermione had found her way over to them Harry was about to despair.

“Are you sure he’s coming Herm’?”

“Well he definitely RSVP’d Harry so I hope so,” Hermione answered, a calming hand on his arm.

“Ooh, ooh there!” Ron yelled in Harry’s ear, “The gits over there, look,”

Harry’s eyes followed where Ron was pointing and sure enough there was Draco, standing at the far end of the Hall, partially hidden behind Blaise Zabini as they chatted.

Harry went red suddenly, faced with the prospect that he was actually going to do this.

Ron and Hermione both smirked at him.

“Shut up,” Harry huffed at his friends before trying to cut through the crowd. 

His legs felt like jelly, for Merlin’s sake it was ridiculous but Draco was there, smiling, completely at ease and Harry thought he might need a new prescription for his glasses because it honestly looked like Draco was bloody glowing in those robes.

When he reached Draco and Blaise he had the uncomfortable experience of two people stopping mid-sentence to stare at him in bewilderment.

Harry did his best to ignore it and smiled.

“Hi! I, y’know, thought I’d come say hi,” so Harry wasn’t the most eloquent person in the world, did it matter right now?

Probably.

“Hello,” Draco replied, blinking away his surprise and smiling politely back.

There it was again, that feeling that someone had tucked a fish-hook into Harry’s ribs and was pulling.

“Nice to see you Potter,” Blaise held his hand out and Harry shook it firmly with his own polite smile.

“Good to see you too Blaise, and please call me Harry, no-one’s called me Potter in years,” Harry chuckled and couldn’t help but glance at Draco who was staring at him curiously.

“Sure,” Blaise agreed easily.

“Do you, uh, do you mind if I borrow Draco for a moment? I promise I’ll bring him back in one piece,” Harry joked, Blaise laughing along like he was meant to.

“Of course, I think I’ll just go and make sure Theo isn’t eating all of the shrimp,” a loaded glance passed between Blaise and Draco and then he was gone. Harry swallowed around a dry throat, very aware that the easy part was over.

“So it’s Draco now? I don’t really remember giving you permission to use my first name Harry,” Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry but his smile seemed pleased.

“I took a chance,” Harry shrugged. Draco hummed in response and took a sip from his drink, butterbeer by the looks of it. Harry couldn’t really help that his gaze dropped to Draco’s lips, heartbeat stuttering slightly when the tip of Draco’s tongue ran across the seam to catch the last drops of liquid.

“I hear you’ve been doing pretty well with the business,” Harry said, eyes lifting to meet Draco’s again. He figured starting with neutral topics would be best.

“It keeps me occupied, you’re a lawyer now?” Draco asked.

“Almost,” Harry answered, “another month before I officially have my qualification but I am interning at a firm on Diagon Alley.”

“I have to say I didn’t really expect that but I guess it fits in with helping people,” Draco conceded.

On anyone else Harry would have called that smile fond and he couldn’t help but grin back, feeling slowly more buoyant now that he was finally here.

“Yeah I guess I never really got out of that habit,” Harry joked,” it can be pretty fun though, it’s surprising how much detective work is involved in being a lawyer to be honest.”

“Ah yes, you always were one for a bit of snooping,” Draco laughed, Harry wondered if Draco could hear his heart thumping, “I wouldn’t make much of a detective myself but I do like solving puzzles. I try to help out with developing new products when I can.” 

“That sounds pretty amazing,” Harry enthused, Draco shrugged away the compliment and they settled into silence.

Working up his nerve Harry cleared his throat.

“I, um, I didn’t actually come over to talk about jobs, although I did want to congratulate you on you know, everything,” Draco arches an eyebrow at him, eyes glinting, Harry doesn’t know why he finds that sexy, he just does.

“Well then what did you come over here for Harry?” And oh the way Draco says his name, like he’s savouring it.

“I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime?” Harry blurts and this time both Draco’s eyebrows go up and that is less sexy and more worrying.

Harry fidgets. Not sure where to put his hands and really how does the whole Hall not hear his heartbeat right now.

Harry isn’t sure if this is a good lost-for-words or a bad lost-for-words but Draco is looking at him as if he’s just announced his plans to live on Neptune.

“I mean, only if you-” Harry starts.

“Are you sure?” Draco asks, tone still hovering over the implication that he thinks Harry is mad but Harry grins because this he can deal with. This is not flat out rejection and therefore counts as progress.

“Yes,” Harry answers, trying to emphasize just how sure he really is with this one word.

“Why?” Draco’s face does this cute scrunchy confused thing and Harry reckons if there was ever a chance of not falling in love, it just upped and left. Sure there was probably still loads of their past to work through and they needed to properly get to know each other as they were now but Harry was planning on doing that over restaurant dinners and coffee dates and sofa cuddling. 

Harry knew that his smile was kind of dopey but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Because you’re pretty damn incredible and I’ve always wondered if we could have had something after that night in the kitchens,” from the way Draco’s eyes widen Harry is going to assume that he knows what Harry’s talking about. “I think that we just weren’t ready then, things between Ginny and I had only just broken off and we were both so damaged. I’m ready now though, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I really think we could have something.” 

“I mean I really think I fell a little in love just watching you wash dishes and declare that you wanted to prove you could be better,” Harry continued, “but then you really did it, you proved it over and over and I’ve only been able to watch from afar because I had my own stuff to get on with but I’ve just never been able to get you out of my head and uh-”

Harry stops, realising he’s been completely babbling. Draco is just staring at him unblinkingly and Harry is starting to worry that he’s really shoved his foot in his mouth.

“Draco?” Harry waves a hand in the mans’ face, “Hey, you okay?”

Harry isn’t entirely sure what happens but one moment Draco just seems to snap out of it and then there’s a cool hand around Harry’’s wrist and he’s being dragged, _dragged_ , out of the Hall.

“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong? Did I say something really bad?” Harry asks at the blonde head in front of him, beginning to panic a little. He catches Ron and Hermione staring at him on the way out, Ron’s rolling his eyes but Hermione is just giggling.

Harry is very confused.

Draco doesn’t stop until they’re out on the grounds and round a corner out of sight. Harry almost wonders if this is the part where Draco punches him, or worse pulls out his wand and castrates him. He frantically goes over everything he said trying to figure out what he needs to back-pedal on.

What Harry was not expecting was to get pushed against the nearest available wall by a firm mouth pressing against his. 

Harry makes a small ‘oh’ noise at the back of his throat before his eyes slide shut and he kisses back, hands instinctively wrapping around Draco’s waist. Draco’s lips are feverish on his, tongue snaking out to lick into his mouth on an intake of breath and _oh god, Merlin, any higher being available for hire_.

Harry keens as Draco’s tongue maps out every nook and cranny of Harry’s mouth and all Harry can do is hold on, still recovering from his surprise at being jumped. 

Then Draco’s chest rumbles against his with what Harry can only describe as a proprietary growl. Harry gets so turned on at the thought that Draco wants to make him his that he moves his hand to the base of Draco’s skull to thread his fingers in the short hairs there as he leans forward into the kiss with new ferocity.

The few moments of contact Harry had ever had with Draco’s skin he had always felt cool but Merlin his mouth was a furnace. It set Harry on fire where their lips met, drinking each other down like they’d die if they didn’t. Every inch of Harry felt hyper aware of the body pressed to his, the laboured breaths across his lips, the maddening tongue wrapping around his.

By the time they slowed down they were both shivering from the intensity of it. Harry nipped softly at Draco’s bottom lip, not quite ready to let go yet. Draco kissed him softly back before opening his eyes and lifting his head slightly to survey the damage.

Harry was still panting, brain fogged over.

Draco moaned and dropped his forehead to Harry’s shoulder, his breath skating warm against Harry’s neck. Harry links his arms around Draco’s back and leans against the wall behind him, warm and content. 

In a minute he would have to think furiously about Filch or something to make his erection subside, knowing that coming in his pants was probably not the best idea during their school reunion.

Besides, if this relationship was going to happen and it was looking relatively promising, Harry really did want to take Draco for that coffee and actually catch up before he got around to other things.

Eventually Draco lifted his head and met Harry’s gaze steadily, Harry was pretty sure this is where the talking started up again but Draco really did look thoroughly snogged. His lips were swollen red, cheeks all flushed and hair dishevelled.

It was incredibly distracting.

“In case you didn’t get that my answer is yes,” Draco interjects, Harry’s eyes jolt guiltily away from Draco’s kiss-bitten lips.

“Hm?” Harry runs his tongue along his bottom lip skittishly, tasting Draco there and Draco’s eyes follow the movement hungrily. Yeah, still really turned on, Harry thinks, gulping, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if they did things a little backward, he didn’t always have to be Mr Principles. It was so very tempting.

Draco huffs out a laugh that sounds half exasperated and half fond and Harry could really get used to hearing that.

“Coffee. Date. Yes.” Draco spells out, Harry feels his grin grow so wide the corners of his eyes are crinkling.

“Really?” 

“Yes! Merlin you have no idea do you? Honestly the number of times Blaise has told me I’m a complete idiot for being hung up on you. I had almost convinced myself I dreamed that night in the kitchens. I was just going to forget about it all, live my life regardless of my bizarre attraction to you but as usual you mess everything up,” Draco huffed like he was annoyed but it was ruined by the fact that he couldn’t help smiling either.

“Sorry,” Harry replies, not sounding at all remorseful.

Draco just kisses him again, slower this time, more affection than heat, a promise of many kisses to come. It makes Harry feel just as fogged up as the first kiss and he pulls back slightly to mouth at the juncture between Draco’s chin and his neck. Nibbling gently at the pale skin below his ear just because he can.

Draco inhales sharply and Harry murmurs his approval into his skin.

“We should probably get back inside you know,” Draco remarks, “Merlin knows how much everyone is already gossiping about this.”

“Five more minutes,” Harry hums as he bites his way back down towards Draco’s lips, revelling in the fact that he can make Draco shudder.

It ends up being more like twenty minutes before the two of them finally head back to the Great Hall but none of their friends seem to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments are as always fuel for my tired soul.
> 
> I may see if there's some other fics gathering dust from my teenage years that I can re-vamp when the mood strikes.


End file.
